at home, for she was thus enabled to cheer her father’s last days
by her presence. In February, without any previous warning, he was
attacked by apoplexy, and died immediately. He was yet in the prime
of life, being only fifty years old, and was generally regretted. His
death was a heavy affliction to his daughter, for the tie had been
unusually strong that existed between them; inheriting many of his
traits of character, she had been his companion and had shared with him
many daring adventures. He had almost idolized her, and she was equally
devoted to him. Col. Sproat had many warm friends among his brother
officers. The family still have in their possession a miniature of him
painted by Kosciusko. They were intimate friends, and it was taken
while they were together in winter-quarters during the Revolution.
Burr, on his first visit to Ohio, is said to have shed tears over the
grave of his old fellow-soldier.
Mrs. Sibley remained with her mother until the following summer, her
husband having in the mean time returned from Washington to Detroit.
In June, 1805, that city was entirely destroyed by fire. An extract
from a letter written at that time by Mr. Sibley to his wife, will
give an idea of the loss of property and the suffering that ensued.
“June 16,--We are all, without a single exception, unhoused. The town
of Detroit was on the 11th inst. in the course of three hours reduced
to ashes. You can readily conceive the consternation and consequent
confusion that prevailed. Much personal property, household furniture
and merchandize fell a sacrifice to the devouring element. I had, from
my situation, the good fortune to save our property from the fire,
but from the bustle that prevailed, and the thefts committed, I have
suffered considerably. We have been exerting ourselves since the fire
to relieve the distressed. They are numerous, and demand every exertion
we can make in their favor. The houses up and down the settlement are
full, and for want of room many families still remain encamped in
the open air. The gentlemen from the other side have been liberal in
furnishing provisions, which are still much wanted.
“My own loss, as compared with that of the citizens in general, is
so trifling that I have scarcely thought seriously upon the subject.
The want of a house, added to the entire suspension of business, is
the greatest inconvenience I experience. I believe the present scene
presents a phenomenon rarely to be met with; a whole town burned with
the exception of a single dwelling-house standing. What measures will
be adopted in rebuilding Detroit it is yet uncertain. A number of
us are exerting ourselves in order that we may procure more room by
widening the streets. A meeting will be held at Mr. May’s to-morrow,
when the subject will be discussed; the result will be uncertain.
What a gloomy prospect for our Governor, etc., when they arrive!
Not a single house for his reception or accommodation. Our country
was sufficiently poor before the late disaster--what will become of
a number of poor persons I know not, unless some benevolent aid is
offered from abroad. This last resource appears doubtful. We are not
known in the States, therefore we have but little expectation that they
will interest themselves for our relief.”
Mr. Sibley fitted up an old house which was then considered quite
a distance from town, a large open common intervening; situated on
the square opposite “the Biddle House,” now in the very heart of the
city. He occupied the same house until 1835, a period of thirty years.
As soon as it was rendered comfortable he went to Marietta for his
wife. Michigan had only lately been organized into a territory, and
upon the arrival of the newly appointed governor, Gen. Hull, Detroit
was a perfect scene of desolation. He was obliged to build a house
immediately, for there was not one for him to live in. The house he
erected was considered a splendid one at that time, and was the same
afterwards known as the American Hotel, which was burned in the fire of
1848. On Mrs. Sibley’s return, she again travelled on horseback, but
only as far as Sandusky, from which place they came in a vessel.
But few events worthy of note occurred during the interval between her
return and the war of 1812. She was then the mother of three children,
and for their sake, even more than for her own, looked forward with
dread to the prospect of another war. The events of that war, as
connected with Detroit, are too well known to require a repetition
here. Although exposed to so much danger, Mrs. Sibley remained with her
husband, and in all the trials and horrors of that eventful time, bore
herself most courageously.
At the time an attack upon the town was expected, it was thought
advisable to place the women and children for greater security within
the fort. During the terrible day of the cannonade, Mrs. Sibley said
that not one woman gave way to fear; that she never saw so much courage
displayed. All seemed nerved by the exigencies of the time, and by
the very danger to which they were exposed. They busied themselves
in giving the only assistance in their power, making cartridges, and
scraping lint for the wounded. Some dreadful scenes occurred on that
day. In the room adjoining that in which the ladies were collected,
four officers were shot by one ball. One of these was Mr. Sibley’s
cousin. When the news was announced of the surrender, the feeling of
regret and indignation expressed was intense. They were all prepared
for danger, but not for disgrace. As the American soldiers were marched
out of the fort, Mrs. Dyson, the wife of an officer, collected all the
clothing under the charge of the commissary, and threw it out of a
window to the soldiers as they passed by, declaring that the British
should not benefit by it.
After the surrender, Mr. Sibley applied to Gen. Proctor for permission
to go on with his family to Ohio. It was denied at first, but
afterwards granted, giving him only two days to make his preparations.
Thus hastily they left their home, to remain until happier times. The
vessel in which they embarked was a very small one, and exceedingly
crowded, but there was no alternative; and with heavy hearts they
sailed for Erie. They remained with Mrs. Sibley’s friends a year. As
soon as Detroit was given up to the Americans they started on their
return, but when they reached Cleveland found that it was rather late
in the season, the few vessels then on the lake being laid up for
the winter; and as it was impossible to go by land with a family of
children they were obliged to remain there all winter. Cleveland was
then but a small settlement, and separated by a dense wilderness from
the southern towns of Ohio. During the time the lake was closed, the
transportation of all articles was attended with great difficulty
and expense, consequently every thing was enormously high. Mr.
Sibley had expected to reach home before the winter, and was little
prepared for such a detention. He had lost greatly by the war, and
the utter cessation of all business for such a length of time with
one who depended upon his profession for the support of his family,
had so crippled his means that his inability to proceed homeward was
excessively inconvenient to him. The family was treated with much
kindness, but had to submit to great privation and discomfort, and they
were heartily glad when the return of spring allowed them to return to
Detroit.
Mrs. Sibley made but one more visit to Ohio, and that was in 1819.
She then received intelligence of the deaths, within a short time of
each other, of her aged grandparents, the venerable old Commodore and
Mrs. Whipple. Mrs. Sproat being thus left entirely alone, as she had
no other relatives in the west, she wrote to her daughter that if she
could come for her she would return with her to Michigan.
Mrs. Sibley did not hesitate, but leaving her family under the charge
of a faithful servant, set out on her journey. She went under the
care of a gentleman from Detroit, and to save fatigue went as far as
Sandusky in the new steamboat, “Walk in the Water,” the first steamboat
that ever ran on Lake Erie.
They sent their horses by a servant to meet them at Sandusky. This
journey to Marietta was the last ever taken by Mrs. Sibley on
horseback. She remained in Ohio only long enough to complete the
preparations for Mrs. Sproat’s removal. They returned by stage, as Mrs.
Sproat was too old to undertake the journey on horseback. Mrs. Sproat
remained with her daughter until her death, which took place in 1832.
The most eventful part of Mrs. Sibley’s life was now past. Henceforth
her time was principally occupied with the duties incumbent upon a
wife and mother, and these were well and faithfully performed. A large
family grew up around her, in whose minds it was ever her constant
endeavor to instil such high principles as should make them true to
themselves and useful members of society. To her most truly could the
scriptural passage be applied, “Her children shall rise up and call her
blessed.”
It is difficult to convey an adequate idea of the actual condition of
this portion of the great Mississippi valley in its transition state,
or the important part in the formation of its daily life that fell to
the lot of a pioneer matron. Of all these, there was not one better
fitted by nature and education for the time and place than this noble
woman. Blessed with a commanding person, a vigorous and cultivated
intellect, undaunted courage, and an intuitive and clear perception
of right and wrong, she exercised great influence upon the society in
which she lived. Affectionate in disposition, frank in manner, and
truly just as well as benevolent, she was during her whole married
life the centre of an admiring circle of devoted friends. As age crept
on, and disease confined her to the fireside, she still remained the
object of profound and marked respect to the people of the city which
had grown up around her, and when at length she was “gathered to her
fathers,” she died, as she had always lived, without one to cast a
reproach upon her elevated and beautiful character.
A revolution like that of 1776--the surrender upon the altar of
their country of the fortunes of the brave men who led the way to
freedom--the poverty of the government and its consequent inability to
repay these losses--the resulting necessity of making a home among the
savages of a great wilderness, and reducing that wilderness to a state
of law, order, and refinement; these were circumstances well fitted to
develope the strong traits of character in the men and women of the
great West. They cannot recur, and therefore we cannot expect again to
see such a race. They have passed away, and henceforward we may expect
what has always accompanied an age of refinement, the softening down
of strong points of character, and in too many instances, enervation
and effeminacy.
The husband of this honored lady, the Hon. Solomon Sibley, was for
many years one of the judges of the Supreme Court of the territory of
Michigan. He lived to be not only the last relic of the ancient bar of
Michigan proper, dating back to 1798, but also the last remaining link
connecting the profession in that State of the present day with that
of the Northwest Territory, of which he was a member previous to his
removal to Detroit.
He was a native of Massachusetts, and was admitted to the bar in
Virginia. In 1797, he practised law with his friend Judge Burnet,
of Cincinnati. In 1799, having removed to Detroit, he was elected
to the first territorial legislature of the Northwest Territory as
representative for the county of Wayne, which then embraced the present
State of Michigan. This body held its sessions in Cincinnati. In the
records of the Historical Society of Ohio, Judge Sibley is mentioned
as “among the most talented men of the House.” That he was held in the
highest estimation by his fellow-citizens, is evinced by the fact, that
as early as 1802 the electors of the town of Detroit voted him the
freedom of the corporation “for his eminent services in behalf of the
people of the territory.”
In the uniform, quiet, and unostentatious devotion of his time and
talents to the interests of his country, Judge Sibley continued to
receive marked evidences of universal respect and confidence, till
compelled by physical infirmity to retire from public life. In his
public relation of United States Commissioner--associated with Gen.
Cass to negotiate the treaty by which the Indian title to a large part
of the peninsula of Michigan was extinguished; as delegate representing
the territory of Michigan in Congress; as District Attorney of the
United States, and as Judge of the Supreme Court of Michigan, he won,
as he well merited, the affection, respect and entire confidence of
his contemporaries and associates. All who were acquainted with him
in private life cherished the highest respect and veneration for the
character he had so justly acquired and sustained during a long and
well spent life. In all private relations, he showed himself amiable,
pure, and true to the various interests confided to him; in public
ones, faithful, upright, and honorable; a sound and able lawyer, an
impartial, honest, and discriminating judge.
For several years before his death, his health being too infirm for
public duty, he gave himself up to the enjoyments of a happy home,
where, surrounded by friends, he was gathered to his fathers, April
4th, 1846, aged seventy-seven. The members of the bar of Detroit, and
officers of the respective courts assembled to express their regret,
and esteem for his noble character, and wore mourning for the usual
time.
XIII.
MARY DUNLEVY.
Few among the pioneer mothers presented in their lives a more
impressive example of the patient perseverance, courage, and energy of
character which distinguished the matrons of that day, than the subject
of the present brief sketch. The materials have been communicated by
one of her family, whose recollections enable him to describe much of
her experience in building a home in the wilderness.
Mary Craig was of Scottish parentage, and was born on the voyage from
Scotland to America, about the year 1765. The family then came to
settle in New York. At the commencement of the Revolutionary struggle,
Mary was but ten years old, but she could understand that the people
were unjustly oppressed, and her feelings were warmly interested in
favor of the patriots. Her father had died soon after reaching the
country, and she, with an elder sister and a younger brother, formed
the little family under her mother’s care. Their circumstances were
comfortable, though they were not wealthy, and but for the outbreak
of war, they would probably have remained together. The vicissitudes
and dangers to which the inhabitants of the city were subjected by
the approach of a hostile force, and the occupation of New York by
British troops, caused no little alarm to Mrs. Craig for the safety of
herself and children; she had few friends in the strange land, and
it therefore can hardly be wondered at that, renewing acquaintance
with a gentleman whom she had known in Scotland--now an officer in the
British navy--she listened favorably to his addresses, and finally
married him. Her husband, of course, was a loyalist, and Mary had by
this time become so thoroughly imbued with republican principles,
that no kindness on the part of her stepfather could reconcile her
to the restraints to which she was subjected in the family, in the
expression of political opinions. It was not long before she left her
home in the city, and went to reside at the house of Dr. Halstead,
in Elizabethtown, New Jersey. This proved to be a final separation
from the other members of her family. Her sister soon after married
an Englishman, and went to England; and when New York was evacuated
by the British, her stepfather, with her mother, brother, and an
infant half-sister, went with other refugees to Nova Scotia. Mary
bore her part, meanwhile, in the apprehension and dangers to which
the inhabitants of Elizabethtown were exposed during the war from
the frequent incursions of the enemy. She repeatedly risked her life
in endeavors to save the property of her friends from destruction,
which she would do by earnest appeals to the invaders, trusting that
her youth would ensure her own safety. On one occasion a sword was
drawn upon her, with a threat that she should be killed if she did
not leave the room; but she persisted, and finally saved the property
threatened. She was often occupied during the whole day or night in
running bullets, or in attendance upon the wounded or dying. When
the better time arrived, she witnessed the triumphal march of Gen.
Washington on his way to New York, being one of a number of young girls
who strewed the road with flowers as he passed. The disasters of a
tedious war were soon forgotten in rejoicings for the establishment of
liberty and peace; but for Mary the anxious part of life’s drama was
but just commenced. In 1787 she was married to James Carpenter. The
Northwest Territory, and especially the Miami country, was at that time
much talked about, considerable excitement prevailing on the subject
of emigration to the West, and Carpenter had recently returned from
a visit of exploration to the Miami purchase in company with Judge
Symmes and others. He was so much pleased with the new country that he
determined to settle there, and Mary’s inclination corresponded to his
own. They left New Jersey with the first little colony of Judge Symmes,
reached Limestone, now Maysville, Kentucky, late in the autumn of 1788,
and the men, and a few of the stronger among the women, immediately
repaired to Columbia, near the mouth of the Little Miami, five miles
above the site of Cincinnati. Here they commenced building a log fort
and cabins for the different families of the settlers, and laying out
fields and gardens for cultivation the next spring, while the feebler
members of the company remained in Kentucky during the winter.
In the spring, the fort being completed, all the settlers took up
their residence at the locality selected. The families occupied the
cabins built for them, but whenever there was an alarm of the approach
of hostile Indians, they fled to the garrison, which was defended
with all the strength of the colony, and the enemy chased away when
not in large parties. Yet, notwithstanding the utmost precaution,
the stealthy marauders sometimes succeeded in carrying off property
and capturing prisoners, and even in killing several persons in the
settlement. Mary, whose childhood had been familiar with the terrors
of civil war, and whose heart was stout and resolute, was to be tried
by the severest of sorrows. Carpenter’s arduous labors during the
first winter and spring in clearing the ground and assisting to raise
the buildings, had caused a hemorrhage of the lungs, the effects of
which brought on a decline, terminating in his death in less than two
years. Mary was thus left with two young children, without a relative
to protect her, in the midst of a wilderness, surrounded by savage
foes; but her courage and resolution did not falter under accumulated
trials. She knew that her children had no dependence except on her
care and labors, and trusting in the Providence whose kindness watches
over the widow and the fatherless, she determined to lean, with her
helpless babes, on His protection and guidance, and perform with
untiring energy the duties that lay before her. She was urged to take
up her residence in the fort, as she could not otherwise be safe from
the frequent assaults of the savages; but she persisted in remaining
in her cabin, notwithstanding the remonstrances of her neighbors, and
although her home was several hundred yards from the blockhouse. Her
wounded heart preferred solitude to society; the more so as in the
promiscuous company frequently assembled in the garrison, the rough
oaths of the soldiers might frequently be heard, and she resolved to
risk living alone, rather than be distressed by associations repulsive
to her delicate and sensitive nature. At the same time she planned the
measures she would take in the event of danger, leaving the result with
Him in whom her trust was placed. Beneath the puncheon floor laid in
every cabin, there was generally dug a small cellar in which vegetables
might be kept secure from frost. Every night she lifted one of these
pieces of timber, and placed her children in a rough bed she had made
in the cellar. As soon as they were asleep, the puncheon was laid down,
and the mother took her position where she could see the Indians, when
approaching, at a considerable distance. Here she would sit during
the whole night, engaged, in the hours of wakefulness, in knitting
or such housework as could be performed without any other light than
from smothered embers not permitted to give out the slightest blaze.
When the youngest child waked and required nursing, she would lift the
puncheon, and sit on the edge of the opened floor till it was lulled to
sleep, then deposit it once more in the secret bed and close the floor
over it. Her resolution was taken, should the Indians attack one door,
to make her escape by the opposite one to the fort, give the alarm,
and bring the men to rescue her children before the foe could discover
their hiding-place. Her fears were not groundless; the Indians were
often seen by her prowling about the little village, and on several
occasions, when all was dark and still, they came to the door of her
cabin, and attempted to enter. Finding the door barred, however, they
did not, for some reason or other, attempt to force it; so that the
widow and her children remained undisturbed, while from other parts of
the settlement property was stolen and prisoners taken, and one or two
individuals were shot in close vicinity to the fort.
The emigrants who established themselves at Columbia, were men of
energy and enterprise, and the little settlement for two or three years
contained more inhabitants than any other in the Miami purchase. The
second party destined for the Miami, was formed at Limestone; they
landed the 24th of December, 1788, on the north bank of the Ohio,
opposite the mouth of Licking river, and laid out a town, to which the
name of Cincinnati was given the following year. The third party of
adventurers to the purchase, under the immediate direction of Judge
Symmes, established a station at ‘North Bend,’ the most northern bend
in the Ohio below the mouth of the great Kanawha. The village has since
become distinguished as the home of President Harrison, whose tomb, on
one of its hills, can be seen from the river.
These three principal settlements of the Miami country had one general
object, and were threatened by one common danger; yet, says Judge
Burnet, there existed a strong spirit of rivalry among them, “each
feeling a pride in the prosperity of the little colony to which he
belonged. That spirit produced a strong influence on the feelings
of the pioneers of the different villages, and an _esprit du corps_
scarcely to be expected under circumstances so critical and dangerous
as those which threatened them. For some time, it was matter of doubt
which of the rivals, Columbia, Cincinnati, or North Bend, would
eventually become the chief seat of business.” The establishment of
the garrison at Cincinnati, made it the head-quarters and depôt of the
army. Fort Washington was the most extensive and important military
work in the territory. It was said that the removal of the troops from
the Bend, which was strenuously opposed by Judge Symmes, was caused by
an attachment on the part of the officer in command, to a beautiful
woman, whose departure to reside in Cincinnati opened the eyes of her
admirer to its advantages for a military post, and thus made it the
commercial emporium and the Queen City of the West.